


Brand New Angel

by geckoch



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Docking, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Rimming, Size Kink, Underage - Freeform, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-03-29 14:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13928706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoch/pseuds/geckoch
Summary: Bob picks up a cute little fan at an autograph signing, figuring he's a college boy. Turns out it'll be few years until he's right about that.





	1. Chapter 1

This was it. Last autograph of the day. The venue's people had cut the line off Christ knew how long ago, and they'd cut it off right behind this cute little blonde number. The _very_ cute, _very_ little blonde number in shorts so short and tight they barely counted, who called him "Mr. Bad Bob" and wanted an autograph for his mama, and said he played hockey a little at his school and had loved watching the exhibition even though he knew figure skating better.

"Your accent, it's very cute, eh?" he said as he made out the 8x10 to Suzanne. He was retired, by God, and if he wanted to pick up this sweet bit of trade he would take his best shot. "Where are you from?"

"Oh! Um, thank you, sir, I- I like yours too, I'm from Georgia." He was even cuter when he blushed, going pink from the neck of his tshirt to his apple cheeks. Bob wondered how far down it went and, when his eyes followed the thought as though he expected to see through cloth, he saw hard little nipples poking through the thin cotton. Even for a Georgia boy, it wasn't that cold in here. 

Bob brought his gaze back up to those big brown eyes. "What's your name, sweetheart? I know your mother's, but not you."

"Eric Bittle," he said shyly, looking at Bob through long lashes. "You're- you're a very kind man, Mr. Bad Bob, and you've been so generous with your time, I shouldn't-"

"Nonsense, Bitty," Bob said as he stood, laying a hand on Bitty's shoulder. Because when some college kid the size of Polo Polonich told Bob he played hockey and his name was Bittle, it wasn't exactly a challenge to guess his nickname. "What you should do is introduce me to the lovely Suzanne."

Bitty's face lit up. "Oh my goodness, Mr. Bad Bob, I couldn't possibly ask you to- but if it wouldn't be an imposition- oh, she would be so thrilled!"

Being farther past fifty than he cared to consider, Bob walked around the table instead of vaulting it. He laid a hand on the small of Bitty's back, where his shirt had ridden up enough to expose a strip of warm, freckle-dusted skin. "It wouldn't be," he assured as he guided Bitty away from the table. "Not one bit." He caught Bitty's chin in his other hand and tilted his face up. "Seeing how you light up at the thought of making your mother happy, it could never be an imposition," he declared. Bitty looked up at him like he'd hung the moon and stars. "I just need to pick up my bag from the locker room, and I will be free for the evening."

"Thank you, sir." Bitty's voice was soft and awed as he let himself be guided to the locker room. Bob had been flirted with by enough cute little fans to notice the way Bitty lagged just a tiny bit to feel the press of Bob's hand on his back, the way he walked a little too close and bumped he hip against Bob's thigh. He was such a warm, eager little thing, Bob suspected he'd jump at the chance to be lured away from his mother and aunties after dinner.

Everyone else had already cleared out their lockers and left while he was dawdling and flirting. Bob grabbed his gear bag and, when he turned around, Bitty was on his tiptoes looking looking nervous and embarrassed.

"What is it?" he asked gently, cupping Bitty's cheek in his palm. 

Bitty leaned into it. "I- I was going to try to kiss you," he said, almost defiantly. "But I'm too short." 

Laughing, Bob lifted him easily, using the excuse to grab a double handful of his little bubble butt. With those shorts as short as they were, he was touching more skin tham fabric. As Bob kissed him, Bitty's legs wrapped around his waist easy as anything. Bob felt like he could hold him up all night.

"You brave little thing," Bob said between kisses. "You must be a terror on the ice."

"I-I'm not that-"

Bob kissed him quiet, because no man who made a pass at an old hockey tough with at least thirty centimeters, thirty kilos, and thirty years on him had any business denying being brave.

With Bitty's legs wrapped around him, it was easy to feel the bulge in his shorts and the way his little hips were trying to rock against Bob's own erection.

"Easy, sweetheart," soothed Bob, pulling back, "easy, unless you want me to have you right here."

"I do!" Bitty blurted, face flushing scarlet. "I- please?"

Groaning, Bob began a stiff, hurried walk to the showers. "You're a terror right here." When he realized Bitty was opening his mouth to apologize, Bob kissed it out of him. "I never expected to be so lucky as to meet a sweet little slut like you." He set Bitty down reluctantly, planting a kiss on his forehead, so they could both undress. Nervous or not, blushing or not, Bitty's eyes on him were hungry as he stripped off. And, oh, that sweet little body. He'd fucked his share of figure skaters, and he'd fucked more than his share of wingers, and the combination turned out to be a happy one indeed. Bob turned on the water and pulled a trembling Bitty gently into the spray with him. Bitty leaned against him, cheek to chest, and Bob wrapped his arms around him, swaying a little like they were slow-dancing.

He soaped up a hand and brought it right back to Bitty's back, sliding lower. When his fingertips touched Bitty's hole, teasing over it ever-so-lightly, Bitty said something against his chest in a tiny voice Bob couldn't make out.

Bob brought his other hand up to tilt Bitty's face up at him so he could look in those big, brown eyes. "What did you say, sweetheart?"

"I'm a virgin. I- I want- I want it so bad, just please be gentle with me, Mr. Bad Bob."

Cock aching, Bob pulled Bitty against him and kissed him deeply, still trailing soapy fingers up and down his crack. When he pulled back, Bitty was panting for him. 

"Oh you sweet, little, natural born slut, I'll teach you what your body needs, everything you don't know how to beg for." Bob kissed him again, pressing a little more firmly on his hole, and was rewarded with a needy moan. He didn't try to penetrate deeply even when Bitty's body softened, opening up for his fingers and begging for it. He was going to teach sweet little Bitty to suck his cock, then he was going to eat that virgin ass until he was ready to go again.

"I bet you'd like to learn what your pretty mouth is for."

Bitty nodded eagerly.

Bob tangled a hand in Bitty's wet, blonde hair, then paused. "You got bad knees?"

"No, sir."

"Well, if, God forbid, you ever do," Bob said amiably as he guided Bitty down with the hand in his hair, "the trick is, you steal your goalie's knee guards and keep on giving all the blowjobs you want." Bob patted Bitty's cheek fondly. "Which, I get the feeling, is going to be quite a few, eh?"

Blushing, Bitty glanced up at him with a shy grin, before his eyes were drawn back down to Bob's hard cock. Bitty licked his lips.

"Uh, I ain't never- I mean, I-" He broke off, biting his lip and looking pleadingly up at Bob.

"Here, sweetheart." Bob took Bitty's hand gently in his and guided it to his cock. "Like this." He curled Bitty's little fingers around it and helped him slide down the foreskin, listening with some satisfaction to the slight acceleration of Bitty's breathing. Virgins who'd never met an uncut cock in their lives were either a pain in the ass or a charming treat, and judging by Bitty's rapt, curious stare and his wandering little fingers, he was going to be the latter. "Why don't you give it a little lick, eh? See how you like it."

Slowly, cautiously, Bitty leaned forward. His big, brown eyes turned up at Bob, looking for approval, as his little pink tongue darted out - first for a tentative little pat at the tip of his cock, then for a longer, deeper lick over the head, accompanied by a sweet sound of pleasure. Bob groaned as Bitty's curious tongue explored him thoroughly, investigating his foreskin, trying to lick into his urethera, dragging all the way down the shaft and a little ways onto his nuts.

Bob tightened his hold on Bitty's hair - not to hurt, though he had a feeling Bitty might take to having his hair pulled, but just a firm grip to guide him closer. Judging by the little moan it earned, Bitty took to that too. "You can suck here too, just be gentle with my _gosses_ , eh?" He winked at Bitty and ruffled his wet hair. 

With an adorably serious little nod, Bitty bent forward and took Bob's sack into his hot, wet mouth. "Oh, Bitty, you have a talent," Bob half-moaned. Bitty's mouth was exquisite. "That's good. You can suck a little harder, darling, not so timid. Oh, yes, you lovely thing, you were made for this." He petted and stroked Bitty's hair, enjoying the feel of his happy little hums. "Good," he sighed, when he could no longer stand it, "now, move up the shaft. Yes, kiss it. Oh, you angel." 

The progress of Bitty's sloppy kisses up from the base of his cock was slow, but his open ardor made up for the tease of it. Bob wasn't sure if his little Georgia virgin had ever been kissed in passion before today, but if not he was certainly catching up now, making out with Bob's cock like a lover.

By the time Bitty's wet, kiss-reddened lips reached the head of his cock, Bob found himself panting. Thank God for the mature man's stamina, even in his thirties Bitty's God-given gift for cocksucking would have had him spilling like a teenager by now.

Slowly, Bitty's sweet lips wrapped around the head of his cock. Big, brown eyes trained on Bob's, Bitty carressed him with his tongue, gave a gentle suck. "Good," moaned Bob, tangling his fingers in Bitty's hair, "good, sweetheart, try to take more. See how much we can fit in your dear little mouth."

Bitty tried. He only made it a couple more centimeters before choking himself, poor little love. When he pulled back to a depth he was comfortable with, Bob could see frustrated tears glimmering in his eyelashes. "Do you want me to help you, Bitty?" Bitty made a pleading noise that had Bob groaning. "Here," he soothed, massaging Bitty's scalp, "what you need is to relax, little sweet. Just relax. Then I'll help you down."

One skill of Bad Bob's that the press never touted: he could give a mean massage. Little Bitty was putty in his hands, moaning around his cock, the tension Bob could feel when he moved his hands over Bitty's throat and jaw slowly draining away. Between Bitty's soft sucking and needy moans, Bob was barely holding on.

Finally, slow and gentle, he guided Bitty's head down. "There, now that's easier, eh? When it feels too deep, swallow. Oh," he moaned, startled as Bitty swallowed him down just right and Bob slid deeper. "That's it, sweetheart. Just keep swallowing, and breathe through your nose." Still rubbing Bitty's scalp soothingly, Bob pressed deeper, deeper, moaning at the sensation of Bitty's tight, hot throat trying to milk the come out of him, hardly realizing how well Bitty was doing until his little button nose was pressed into Bob's pubic hair.

"Good." Bob moaned, fingers tightening in Bitty's hair a little too hard. Bitty moaned for him, the vibrations bringing Bob right to the edge. "Very good. You suck cock like you were born for it, Bitty, oh, you dear little slut." 

Rocking his hips into that welcoming throat, Bob knew he couldn't last. When he came, filling Bitty's throat with the first load it had ever known, sweet, wanton Bitty swallowed down every drop without even being asked.

Bob kept Bitty's mouth right where it was, petting his hair. "Mm, you are a special one, Bitty. I wouldn't have asked you to swallow so much come your first time," Bob told him, not entirely truthfully on that last point. But Bitty _was_ a special little slut and Bob wanted to make him feel that way. "Shh, shh, nice and still, darling. I know you'd like me to stay inside, to let you feel me getting soft on your tongue, and you can have it if you stay nice and still." Bitty's big eyes were full of adoring gratitude while he held Bob gently in his sweet, hot mouth. Bob took his time washing Bitty's face and hair, pampering his good little cock warmer.

He was fully soft and feeling wonderfully sated, cock resting comfortably on Bitty's tongue, when he finally turned the water off, deciding it was time to move things to the bench. Bitty gave a disappointed little "oh" when Bob pulled out, then leaned forward to rest his cheek against Bob's thigh, eyes fluttering closed. Even with his swollen, red lips and the shine of spit from nose to chin, he looked like a sleeping angel.

"Poor little love, this old brute has been making you do all the work, eh? But I'll take care of you from here," Bob promised, guiding Bitty to stand and kissing his forehead. He dried himself off with automatic efficiency, then knelt to more thoroughly explore Bitty's charms.

As he picked up each delicate little foot, the familiar calluses and contours made him smile. Oh, this boy was a skater, all right. Running his hands and towel over strong ankles and calves, it felt like he could read Bitty's play style in his body. He pictured lightning quick turns, feints and spins, Bitty darting past bigger men to deliver the puck to his forward.

He'd be fast on open ice too, Bob thought, rubbing and squeezing his way up those strong, supple thighs. Bitty was trembling when first the fluffy towel, then Bob's fingers, stroked over the soft skin of his inner thighs. 

"I- Oh, Lord, I might-" And oh, that was darling, but the note of miserable shame in his voice made protective fire bloom in Bob's chest. He'd never been known as an enforcer, but he'd never shied away from dropping gloves on a teammate's behalf either.

"And if you do, you'll have me hard again already, feeling younger than I have in years." He pressed a kiss to Bitty's hip, earning a desperate, shivery moan. "Bitty, my darling young sweet, don't believe for a minute a man minds making you wild for him."

Bob dragged the towel so slowly over Bitty's tight little sack, enjoying his gasps and shivers, then up, covering Bitty's lovely cock and patting his blonde curls dry. He pulled the towel back and took a moment to enjoy the view. Bitty's pretty, red cock looked sweet bobbing eagerly in that untamed bush, with pearly drops of precome running down to cling to his curls like dew drops. Bob had always favored the natural look and it was especially flattering on Bitty - accentuated that sweet, untouched appeal of his. 

Moving the towel to that round, lovely ass that fit so well in his hands, Bob gave Bitty a squeeze and watched his cock twitch. He slid the towel up Bitty's slim back, wrapping it around to rub over deceptively wiry arms, then under them to stroke from his belly to collarbones. Not built for brute force, but between the full, strong muscles of his ass and hips and the long, lean lines of his torso, Bitty was well-equipped to duck and dodge, twisting nimbly around to slip his stick where he needed it despite his limited reach.

With this tempting young body under his hands, full of potenital and promising sex and hockey both, Bob found himself indulging in the fantasy of taking Bitty home and training him up. Whatever off-Bob's-radar Georgia college team Bitty played for probably had no idea what to do with a little ex-figure skater like him. But get him really utilizing that back skating speed he almost certainly had, get him reading Tarasov and watching tapes of those Red Army puck control boys... there could be something there. Bitty wasn't coming out of college an NHL prospect, small and green as he was, but ECHL? If Bitty was hungry enough, and if he found linemates he gelled with, maybe. Yes, maybe.

As Bob dragged the towel up over pretty, pink nipples, Bitty came with a half-sobbing cry, little hands clinging to Bob's shoulders as he spilled all over his belly. 

"That's it," Bob said, kissing come off of his chest and giving his hips an encouraging squeeze. "That's my wanton little sweetheart. That's my perfect little slut." He stood, toweled Bitty's hair, then kissed and kissed him while he wiped the come off his belly and thighs. When he pulled back, Bitty looked up at him, flushed and bright eyed, with his hair touseled and his lips red. "Look at you, you pretty thing. How could any man resist you?"

"Mr. Bad Bob...." Bitty blushed even brighter, ducking his head shyly and peering up at Bob through his lashes.

Bob swept Bitty up in his arms, like a bride to be carried across the threshold. Keeping up with his condition was an almost superstitious ritual for Bob - so many retired athletes' bodies seemed to give in to old pains the moment they stopped pushing themselves to new ones - and Bitty was strong in his own right, able to make himself easy to lift. Bob kissed him again, enjoying the way Bitty beamed and cuddled up against his chest. 

"I'm going to make love to you on the bench," Bob told Bitty as he carried him out of the showers. "Then I'd like to see you skate." Smiling at the way Bitty's eyes widened, Bob said, "You've got a good body. Good for breaking your forward's heart-" at Bitty's surprised giggle, Bob gave him a squeeze and kissed the freckles on the bridge of his nose "-and I think pretty good for hockey too, eh?"

Brow furrowed, lips pressed together in a moue of concentation, Bitty didn't answer until Bob was already laying him down on the bench. "I think- I _know_ I could learn to be better, Mr. Bad Bob. A better hockey player and- and-" Wide brown eyes met Bob's, pleading with him to hear _and a better slut._ "I want to." 

It was enough to warm any aging coach's heart. Laying down and covering Bitty's body with his own, Bob kissed him, hands buried in Bitty's hair. "I want to teach you." Bitty moaned happily against his mouth, hardly moving except to kiss back, not even knowing - "Open your legs, sweetheart. Yes, see how you like it?" - what his body wanted until Bob told him. Pinned to the bench with his legs spread wide, the tenor of Bitty's moans became needier. Already, Bob could feel his sweet little cock twitching eagerly, trying to harden. "You see, darling," chuckled Bob, kissing along Bitty's jaw until he found a spot that made him cry out. "When you come, I'll just make you hot for me again. A needy young slut like you doesn't need to worry about that. Let me see how your body loves it."

"Oh, oh, oh!" Bitty's little hands scrabbled on Bob's back and his knees squeezed his hips as Bob sucked softly. "I- not where it'll show, oh, I want-"

"Sorry, sweetheart, of course," Bob said, pressing a soothing kiss to the spot he'd sucked. "Want me to find somewhere lower you like just as much?" 

Bitty nodded eagerly. "Please." As Bob kissed down to explore his collarbones, Bitty's hands settled in his hair. "You're- you're very kind to me, sir."

"You deserve kindness, Bitty. A sweet little slut like you is a treasure." He kissed down Bitty's chest, stopping low on his ribs when Bitty gasped with pleasure. "You deserve to be fucked how you need it, as much as you need it, if it takes a whole team to satisfy you." He sucked a line of dark bruises along the curve of his ribcage while Bitty moaned and canted his hips up for contact. "Would you like that, you pretty thing?"

"Yes," Bitty panted as Bob kissed down to his hips. "Please, please."

Bob found a spot at the junture of his thigh that made him gasp and sucked another bruise. "Never been fucked and begging to be passed around the locker room, eh?"

"Oh, Lord, Mr. Bad Bob, I- I-" His little hips, rocking frantically even now Bob wasn't there to rut aginst, answered the question.

Bitty's legs spread wider as Bob kissed and sucked his soft inner thighs. Bob's hands slid under him to lift his hips and spread those pretty, round cheeks.

"Let me see, angel," Bob said, "I want to look at that sweet, virgin hole." Panting and biting his lip, Bitty stilled obediantly. His flexible hips tried to spread his legs wider, like he was desperate for Bob's eyes to explore between them. "So pretty and pink," Bob told his blushing virgin slut, "and so tiny. I'll have to work hard to fit inside." When he bent his head and licked, Bitty wailed, feet kicking in the air. "I know, oh, darling, I know. I can see your body begging with that slutty little wink." Bob kissed it deeply, licking and pressing with his tongue to make Bitty press up against his mouth. "It was cruel to leave you a virgin so long," Bob said, to Bitty's whimpering agreement. "I'll get you ready, eat you so open it'll feel like a whole team _has_ had you, my slutty sweetheart, and then I'll fill you up how you need, little love, I promise."

"Thank you-oooh!" Bitty broke off into a squeal as Bob bent his head to lick and lick.

He had Bitty's cute little feet kicking in no time flat. "Oh, oh, Mr. Bad Bob, I- I need-" Bitty pressed his hips up, greedy for Bob's mouth. Bob didn't stop to tell Bitty with words that he knew just what he needed, he just showed him with his mouth.

For such a tiny little thing, he did open up easily. Bob lifted his head, smiling at Bitty's dismayed moan, "I'm not stopping, sweetheart." He moved one hand to rub his thumb over that wet needy hole of Bitty's. "Do you play with yourself here?"

Blushing all the way down to his freckled collarbones, Bitty said, "I sometimes rub a little in the shower like- like you did before, sir. But I never- I just get too nervous." 

"You don't seem nervous now," said Bob, smiling as he pressed gently on that soft, easy hole, feeling it open for calloused pad of his thumb.

Bitty bit his plump little lower lip, looking as cute and shy as anything, before looking up at Bob with those big brown eyes and a sweet, sunny smile. "Because- because you been so sweet with me, Mr. Bad Bob, and I know you'll take care of me right."

With a half laughing moan, Bob kissed him where he needed to be kissed, pressing the tip of his tongue inside to make Bitty gasp and squirm. "You really are trouble, aren't you? God help those college boys," Bob laughed, "I bet you have them all wrapped around your little finger." Bitty just shook his head with a helpless little laugh.

"Trouble," Bob repeated sternly, then bent his head to put a different tenor in that giggle. He was going to have Bitty's pretty, slutty hole wet and loose before it had ever had even a finger inside. 

Christ, that wouldn't be hard, the way Bitty relaxed for him. He melted under Bob's hands and tongue with a languid, trusting smile and happy little moan. Even licking with the flat of his tongue, he could feel Bitty open, body inviting him to press inside. Bitty moaned, wanton and needy. A fifty kilo college boy losing his virginity to a man twice his age and size on a dirty locker room bench, and his sweet little hole opened like he'd been waiting his whole life for Bob to come along and pop his cherry.

Bob licked Bitty until spit was dripping down his balls and his moans had trailed off into breathy squeaks, like the vibrations of a real moan would push him over the edge. He pressed his tongue inside, shocked at how deep Bitty's muscles welcomed him in.

"Mr. Bad Bob? I- I think I'm ready now."

"Oh? Let me look at you, sweetheart." Bob stood with a kiss, making a show of examining his sweet little slut. That pretty hole wasn't so pink and tight now, but it was just as inviting. Moreso, he thought as he planted his thumbs near the rosy center and spread.

"Such a beautiful little hole," Bob said, shifting to lay his hard cock between Bitty's legs. "You made my cock so hard, sweetheart, taking my tongue like you were born for it." For a few heartbeats, Bob just rested his cock there, letting Bitty feel the heat and weight of it against his spread open hole. "I don't know, Bitty," he teased. "You're so little, it might break you."

Wide, brown eyes blinked up at him. "Then break me."

Who could refuse? With a groan, Bob lined up the head and pressed shallowy inside, watching Bitty's face as he was penetrated for the first time. He would remember that sweet little smile, the way Bitty bit his lip and scrunched up his freckled nose, eyes sparkling in excitement and delight as the head of Bob's cock pressed him for entry, the easy way Bitty's body yielded and the innocent, surprised joy in his "Oh!" of pleasure.

Bob bent forward and kissed his forehead. "Thank you, sweetheart. I'm a very lucky man."

He felt Bitty's arms and legs wrap around him. "Show me the rest," Bitty said dreamily, that cute accent of his sending an extra tingle up Bob's spine. 

It was hard to move slowly with that wet, welcoming heat squeezing the head of his cock. But Bob stroked Bitty's hipbones with his thumbs and pressed a just a tiny bit deeper, savoring the way Bitty's cock bobbed and dripped at even that tiny motion. Christ, he really was made for this. Little Bitty didn't even know how good it was going to feel for him. He'd be lining up that hockey team to have him once he found out. 

"Please," Bitty whimpered, hips pressing up to take more. Small hands splayed on Bob's broad back, sliding along the lines of his muscles.

Bob hid his face in Bitty's hair and moaned. "Oh, Bitty, you precious slut, you make it hard for a man to be gentle." He pressed a kiss high on Bitty's cheek. "Talk to me, sweet thing?" He grazed his teeth lightly over an earlobe as he thrust a little deeper. "Help me control the animal in me."

"I want to skate for you," Bitty blurted, then flushed bright red like he thought he had said something mortifying. If Bob's cock twitching hard enough inside him to make him squeal wasn't sufficient to teach him otherwise, the way Bob grabbed his ass and lifted Bitty up to meet him as he gave him a few more centimeters of cock surely would be.

Hands scrabbling on Bob's back, Bitty babbled between gasps, "I can do a full Biellmann. Last couple years I only do it if I got a dance belt on because I get to imagining how a man could just come up behind me and take advantage if he wanted and I end up with a wet spot on my tights from wanting it so bad."

_Calvary,_ Bob thought helplessly, gripping Bitty's hips too hard and knowing it, _this is why I stopped sleeping with these figure skating boys. That mouth is going to kill me, and I'll die happy._

"I want to play hockey with you too," Bitty moaned, urging him deeper with heels at the small of his back. "When I watched today, I imagined being on your line. I'd be scared but I'd want to do good for you so bad."

"You would," Bob assured, kissing under Bitty's jaw through the slow, steady push and resisting the temptation to mark him. "You would, angel, just like now. Can you take the rest?"

"Yes." Bitty tossed his head as Bob kept pressing deeper. "Oh, yes. I want it."

There was quite a bit left to give. Bitty gasped and panted and clung to him as Bob made him take it, balanced on the edge. He'd come on the first real thrust and Bob knew it.

Bob kissed his way up his jaw and nuzzled his ear. "I'd protect you on the ice."

The sensation of Bitty's inner muscles working his cock hit him before the hot come hit his belly and he heard Bitty's startled cry. It drove him wild. He couldn't stand a moment longer to be anything but balls deep in this sweet, slutty creature made specially for him to fuck. One long, slow thrust filled Bitty up the rest of the way, his spent little cock twitching as he whimpered at the overstimulation.

Bob lowered their hips to the bench gently, planting his elbows just above Bitty's shoulders and gripping the bench so tight his knuckles turned white. He was going to stay still and give Bitty time to adjust, time to rest after his orgasm. Then he would start slow.

"Mr. Bad Bob?" Bitty's sweet voice trembled. "Don't you want to fuck me now?"

His resolve to wait crumbled at one coquettish blink of those long lashes. Even a saint would fuck this boy hard.

"Oh, sweetheart, of course I do." Bob gripped those cute little hips in his hands as he pulled out, all the way out, until the head of his cock was barely kissing that hot little hole. Bitty's lips parted as he blinked up at Bob, looking sweetly curious and wholly trusting. When Bob thrust back in, Bitty's eyes and mouth widened, the very picture of innocent surprise. Inside, Bitty's muscles fluttered, like even his overstimulated little body wanted to please Bob but wasn't sure how - squeeze tight and milk his cock or open up warm and loose, invite him inside? Bob wasn't going to make his poor sweetheart worry about being the right kind of slut for him. It was Bitty's first time, Bob wanted to take care of him.

Bob helped Bitty wrap those lovely legs around him and got to pounding that sweet little ass in earnest, long hard thrusts that rocked him on the bench. With a different little virgin, Bob might've been gentler. But his Bitty just clung to him, back arching off the bench, glowing with bliss and looking like he was born for Bob's cock.

Tight heat carressed him, Bitty's little body was as pliant and affectionate inside as out. The angle couldn't be much good, as comfortable as it was for himself, and Bob realized suddenly that dear, wanton little Bitty, tossing his head and writhing in brazen delight, didn't even know what a good angle felt like. He only knew that he loved being stuffed with cock in every hole, sweet slut that he was. Bob would have to teach him how much pleasure his body could take.

"Here, darling, let me show you," Bob said, coaxing one of Bitty's shapely legs up, hooking his knee over Bob's shoulder and rolling him almost onto his side on the bench. Bitty tensed and turned those big, brown eyes up at Bob, clearly nervous at his precarious new position. "I won't let you fall," Bob promised, and thrust hard.

Every part of Bitty's body was made for fucking. His virgin throat had swallowed Bob's cock down and milked him dry, a towel brushing over his pretty little tits could make him come, his hole opened up like it knew just what it was for. And the first press of cock against Bitty's prostate had him squirting soft as he wailed for more.

"That's it," panted Bob, stroking Bitty's side as he fucked him through it. He couldn't have stopped in any case, the contacting waves of Bitty's orgasm made the decision for him, body fully committed to nailing this boy until he filled him up with come. "Let's see how many we can give you, angel."

Between cries of shocked pleasure, Bitty managed to tell him, "I didn't know," sounding sweetly dazed and barely audible over the slapping of Bob's skin against his.

"I know, darling," Bob panted, "do you like it? Yes, of course you do, I knew you did. Look at your pretty cock bounce - it wants to nod too, eh? My sweet, slutty angel. Those are good tears, now?" Bitty nodded harder, a little sob escaping him. Bob gave him a hand to hold and he clung gratefully. "That's it, let go for me," Bob coaxed, hearing the way Bitty's cries changed and feeling him tense and shake, fucking him faster, quick, sharp strokes to force him over the edge. "Oh, dear little Bitty, you perfect slut. Can you take more for me, darling? Can you take it until I fill you up?" 

Bitty's nod was frantic. The poor little sweet was crying hard now, squeezing his hand for dear life as Bob's thrusts rocked him on the bench. It sent a pang through him. A change of position, Bob decided, his sweet, sensitive Bitty needed to be held.

It was hard to pull out of that heavenly grip, especially with Bitty squeezing him, clinging to his cock like he was begging him not to go. When Bob eased his leg down from his shoulder, Bitty let out a wounded little whimper.

"Did- was I-"

Bob hushed him as he scooped him up into his arms, arranging Bitty in his lap like a sweet little doll. "I just wanted to hold you, angel," he explained, as he slid Bitty onto his cock like a toy. He cuddled him close, Bitty's knees splayed over his arms, and gave a playful little thrust. "See? Isn't that nice?"

"Mm-hm." Bitty's arms twined lazily around his neck. He tucked his head right under Bob's chin and asked, in a shy little voice still thick with tears, "Can you still do it hard like this?"

Bob bent to kiss his hair and then showed him just how hard, lifting Bitty right off the bench with his thrusts. Christ, but it was easy, Bitty was a tiny little thing and his naively slutty charms had Bob feeling like a young stud ready to rut all night. 

He could hear the sloppy sounds between them as he fucked Bitty to another sobbing, shuddering climax, clinging to Bob and hiding his face. "Poor darling, you'll be ruined for those college boys," Bob half laughed, half moaned. "It really will take a whole team of them to fuck you how you need."

Bob was close now, God, but he wanted to find out how many times his little sweetheart could come having that pretty ass pounded. With a grunt of effort, he stood, ignoring Bitty's surprised squeak, and walked stiffly over to the nearest counter. It was a good height. He sat Bitty half hanging off the edge of it and, holding him by the hips, and let him have it.

Except for the fingers scrabbling on the countertop and the needy little squeezes inside him, Bitty was a ragdoll. He fell back, head knocking against the mirror, and Bob would have been concerned if it weren't for the steady stream of ecstatic cries, "oh, oh, oh," urging him on.

"One more," Bob coaxed, "one more, my special little slut, just for me." Bitty's legs spread weakly, little hips trying to rock to meet his thrusts. His hands trembled as he tried to spread his cheeks to let Bob in deeper. "That's it, sweetheart, angel, I know you can." Bob could feel himself teetering on the edge and gave one, two, three hard thrusts against Bitty's prostate, moaning and spilling as tired muscles tried to clamp down on him. 

The barely there shudder of Bitty's body, the way his poor little cock pulsed, made Bob ask, "Did you?"

Shivering, eyes unfocused, Bitty gave a weak, dazed little smile. "I think so, Mr. Bad Bob."

Chuckling, Bob stroked Bitty's thighs while he caught his breath. God, he was a cute little thing.

When he was so soft he was slipping out, Bob turned Bitty around, having him sit on the counter, his back to Bob's chest, with his knees pulled up so he could see what had become of that tight, virgin hole of his.

Bitty gave a shocked little moan and covered his mouth, avid eyes on the drip of Bob's come trying to escape that rosy red gape. As if by instinct, Bitty's other hand moved between his legs, delicate little fingers pressing come back inside himself, even as the touch made him whimper. 

He blushed as Bob's chuckle rumbled against his back. "I like it inside," Bitty said, eyes shyly downcast as he fingered himself.

"Of course you do," Bob said, kissing Bitty's neck and sliding his hands up to tweak his pert, pink nipples. "You're perfect. A perfect little slut. I'm such a lucky man, to have had you first."

Bitty pressed back against his chest with a tiny whimper, eyes squeezing shut, and Bob left his little nipples alone, tempting as they were. He reached down and caught Bitty's hand in his, guiding it gently away from his poor, overstimulated hole. 

"Shh," he soothed when Bitty whimpered, feeling the first glob of come slide out of him, "I'll give you more another time, Bitty, my darling angel."

"I don't know if I can skate so good right now, Mr. Bad Bob," Bitty murmured, leaning back against him.

Bob laughed, surprised, and hugged him tight. "Of course you can't, sweetheart. Of course not. Look at your poor little hole - not so little after what we did, eh?" Bob leaned around to kiss a blushing cheek. "Later."

"But what if-"

"I'll give you my card," Bob assured, helping him down off the counter and half carrying him back to the bench. "My personal number." He kissed Bitty's lips, then knelt before him to help him dress. "Even if you don't want me to fuck you again-" ("I _do_!" so charmingly insistant) "-I want to see what that little body can do on the ice."

He dressed Bitty like a doll, sliding his little briefs up, admiring the way his come was soaking through them before he added those dangerously short shorts. He slid on socks, shoes, tied Bitty's laces for him. After a moment's consideration, instead of Bitty's shirt he turned to his locker for his own jersey, still sweaty from the game.

"Oh, Mr. Bad Bob, I couldn't-"

"Let me mark you," Bon said, kissing under his ear. "No one else will know but us what it means, eh?"

With a breathless little sound, Bitty held his arms out and let Bob put it on him.

"There," Bob said, pulling him to his feet for a long kiss. He snagged his wallet from his own pile of street clothes and tucked a card into the back pocket of Bitty's shorts, giving him a last squeeze for good measure. "You come skate for me, eh?"

"Oh, I _want_ to," said Bitty, throwing his arms around Bob's neck. "I really do want to, Mr. Bad Bob."

"Then _do_ , angel." Bob kissed him again, slow and deep. "Au revoir, Bitty."

"Au revoir, Mr. Bad Bob." Oh, and didn't it sound precious in that accent of his? "And thank you. For everything."

Bob watched him go, round ass bouncing under his jersey. With how eager Bitty had been, he expected to get another taste any day now. Little did he know it would take years.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A post-deflowering, pre-Samwell interlude.

“Oh my Lord, Dicky, where did you get that?”

“Mama, look.” Eric - _Bitty_ , Bad Bob had called him Bitty, a real hockey nickname just the two of them knew - held up the signed 8x10. 

_To the lovely Suzanne._ And If she asked about it, Eric could tell Mama that Bob had asked like he wanted to flirt with her, and she’d be charmed. But Bitty knew _exactly_ why Bad Bob would guess his mother was pretty. He was glad for once that he blushed so easily - Mama wouldn’t read anything into it.

“And he just _gave_ it to me, Mama, and said he hoped he could see me play hockey some day. He was so kind, I wish you’d gotten to meet him too,” he gushed. _I wish you’d gotten to meet him_ was true where _I wish you’d been there_ would have been a lie. Oh, would it ever.

He was careful to stick to the truth as much as he could, both because hated lying to her about anything and because knew he’d have to tell the story about a million, billion times. Mama, Aunt Judy, and Aunt Maggie were all amazed and delighted.

“Aw, I should’ve gone,” laughed Aunt Maggie. “If he’s sweet enough to give Dicky the shirt off his back-“

“He wasn’t _wearing_ it, Aunt Maggie.”

“-maybe I could’ve landed myself a husband!”

He laughed with the three of them as Aunt Maggie ruffled his hair. He’d been the little tag along on their girls’ outings for as long as he could remember. When he was little he’d giggle along at raunchy jokes he didn’t really get - well, this time the tables were turned. _Oh, Aunt Maggie, I’m afraid Mr. Bad Bob Zimmermann is spoken for._

Bitty spent the car ride home with his thighs pressed together, trying to keep his mind off the wet tenderness between them and the man who put it there. If he got a dang boner sitting here with his mama and his aunts he was going to _die_ of embarrassment. Even after they got home, it seemed like a lifetime before he could excuse himself to go read, give his customary hugs to Mama and Coach, and slip upstairs. 

When he finally had a little privacy, he flopped into bed face first, kicking his feet and muffling a squeal into his pillow. He, Eric Bittle, had lost his virginity to a handsome, dashing, hockey legend sex god who wanted to see him again!

“I think I’m in love with him,” he told Señor Bun dreamily. And, Lord, he knew telling it to his stuffed rabbit wasn’t even the most childish part of that, but he just couldn’t help himself. “Well, I think a little melodrama is downright _appropriate_ given the circumstances,” he added with a huff.

Bitty pulled the card from his pocket and rolled onto his back, looking at the plain, unlabeled phone number. _You come skate for me, eh?_ Lord, he wished so badly he could just call. 

But what was he supposed to say? “And, I hate to impose, Mr. Bad Bob, but I ain’t allowed to drive alone on my learner’s permit, so could you please pick me up at my parents’ house?” Yeah, right. Some college boy.

He punched the number into his phone and saved it with no information, then pulled his secret journal out of his box spring. He didn’t dare write about this - if anyone found out, it wouldn’t be him in trouble, and that didn’t bear thinking about. But he tucked the precious card between the pages and tucked his journal back into its hiding spot.

Maybe if he just kept it long distance. He could say he was too busy with college. And who was he kidding, thinking Bad Bob Zimmermann would let _him_ of all people jerk him around that way. Maybe Bitty could text him pictures - but as hot as that idea got him, common sense cut it off. _Right, and saddle him with more charges and a digital record of what you’ve been up to. Great idea, genius._ God, it just wasn’t fair.

He’d think of something, he would. 

In the meantime, he shrugged off his shorts and slowly, wincing a little as they tugged at his tender skin, peeled off his briefs. Lord, he could smell the spunk Bob put in him. He didn’t know how he’d gotten away with walking around like this all day. 

Still holding the tacky briefs he slipped back into bed, pulling his knees up and relishing the feel of wearing nothing but Bob’s jersey. _This is what I’d wear in his bed, and when he saw how huge it was on me he’d do me all over again._

With cautious curiosity, Bitty spread his legs and reached down between them to feel around. He was sore down there, a really good, really sexy kind of sore. God, if he really were in college he’d be chasing after Bob so often he’d feel that way all the time. A tiny bit of come leaked out of him and he fought to stifle a whimper. He wasn’t even touching himself yet, and he was already so desperately hot he couldn’t keep the sound in.

It was the filthiest thing he’d ever done in his life, but he knew he’d never be able to keep quiet otherwise. Besides, they smelled like his man. So he balled up his come-soaked briefs and stuffed them between his teeth, pretending Bob was watching him do it and calling him angel and slut and sweetheart some more. 

Gagged with his own undies and doing his best to suck every drop of come out of them, he pressed a finger inside where he was hot and swollen, trying to find the place Bob had touched to make him come and come. He was still a little wet - the jizz inside him was starting to turn a little sticky, but it made it easier to penetrate himself. Putting a finger in hurt a little, but only like he already hurt, a sexy, needy ache that said he’d gotten a lot of what was good for him. 

His cock sprang to attention just like he hadn’t just had the most intense orgasms of his _life_ a couple hours ago. Bitty could just imagine the sweet way Bob would tease him for being young and easy. He wrapped a hand around himself, wishing Bob were here so they could do this for each other instead. He tried to imagine it like that, but it wasn’t very convincing. Bob was bigger for one, hands and cock both, and on top of that Bitty was circumcised.

Just thinking of how different it had felt, playing with Bob’s uncut cock, had Bitty moaning around his undies. Even if _didn’t_ end up carrying out a secret international December-May affair with a hockey hall of famer, Plan B was to go to college somewhere with a lot of foreign boys and hippies’ sons, because he wanted some more of _that_ , please and thank you.

But just this moment, a more convincing fantasy was that Bob had asked Bitty to put on a show for him. Maybe somewhere a little risky, where they’d have to worry about getting caught. Hence the panty gag. Yes.

In the locker room - the trainer had stepped out for a minute and Bob had picked his sweet, slutty, little winger right up and sat him on the massage table. It could have started out innocently enough - Lord, the way Bob had massaged his scalp, Bitty would sure like to have those big hands working him over after a long practice in more ways than one. And after the massage, Bob had sat Bitty up with his legs spread, gagged him with his own underwear, and told him to give them both a nice little happy ending before the trainer came back. He’d have his own big cock out too, Bitty decided, sliding the foreskin up and down as he jacked himself. 

Bitty worked himself over with long, showy strokes, letting his legs splay open. He fingered himself a little more vigorously, rolling his hips up to meet it, trying to make it look sexy for Bob. He definitely _felt_ sexy, tasting the evidence as he bucked his hips between his grip and his finger. _There, sweetheart, you lovely thing. Can you make it before the trainers come back?_

Then, suddenly, he found the right angle for his finger. _Oh Lord, just like that. That’s what I need._ Bitty rocked and stroked quicker, arching off the bed and whimpering into his come soaked briefs. He came with a desperate moan, toes curling, and made a mess of himself from belly to chin. 

Panting, he slumped onto the bed, pulling out his gag with a sigh and mopping up his come. _I’ll find a way to see him again,_ Bitty told himself. _I will._


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, when a bro’s dad is Bad Bob, a bro’s gonna turn into a hockey Nazi every once in a while.”

Bitty’s heart skipped a beat and he tried to will his capillaries into submission. _Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush._

“...Who’s Bad Bob?”

At least they believed him, Bitty told himself later. Even if it _was_ pretty embarrassing that they would.

Composing imaginary, unpostable vlog entries wasn’t a habit he’d admit to anybody, but as he baked up a flight of miniature lemon chess pies, his mind was in front of the webcam.

_... and, y’all, I just about died! I suppose that’s why he’s so handsome but, my goodness, Jack must have got his personality from his mother, bless his heart._

Bitty stabbed the bottoms of the crusts with perhaps more vigor than necessary. 

_Bob never made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t know a thing about how to please a man, but he was so **sweet** to me, Lord, he made me feel like the sexiest thing walking. He wanted to see me skate, he believed in me._

Bitty wiped his nose on his handkerchief. _And I couldn’t even call him back. By now he probably doesn’t even remember me._

The second his chess pies were done and out on the counter for the boys, Bitty headed home to his dorm. He stripped down and put on Bob's jersey, set up his laptop on the bedside table, and put on an old Habs game. It was a good one, one where Bob got a hat trick and got in a big fight. It wasn’t the first time Bitty’d watched it with a pillow between his legs, rocking and thinking of Bob. He came during the fight. He usually did. _I’d protect you on the ice._

When family weekend finally rolled around, he was too busy showing Mama around to really think about what it meant. Not until after the game, with Mama wanting another picture and-

“Would you like one of us to take it for you?”

Bitty still dreamed of that voice.

His heart was pounding as he turned around, not knowing what to expect. And oh, Lord, he was hard already, like he was back in high school popping boners at the drop of a hat and, God, when he _had_ been in high school this man had done him more ways than he’d ever imagined on a locker room bench.

Bob was sweet to him and Mama both and Bitty just had to keep reminding himself, as they talked like normal, that he was just one nobody groupie out of thousands. To Bob, everything probably was normal. But, gosh, he really was just as kind as ever, talking up Bitty’s game, one big warm hand on his shoulder. 

He spent his whole shower praying Bob would walk in wanting seconds, but it never happened. And, just to really finish out the day, there was Jack.

Bitty was crying by the time he left Faber, bitterly embarrassed and starting stubbornly down at his feet. He was planning to go home to cry himself out into Señor Bun’s fur, then sleep until Mama texted about brunch. 

Instead, he walked right into Bob.

“Bitty,” Bob said, and for a second it seemed like his hands were going to land on Bitty's back, but instead they found his shoulders, holding him at arm’s length. “Are you alright, son?”

_It wouldn’t be fair to ask if he remembers,_ Bitty told himself firmly. _I’m just his son’s teammate. I should be appropriate._ He looked up into Bob’s eyes and his resolve to be appropriate shattered at the concern he saw there. Bitty threw himself forward into Bob’s arms and, Lord, he should be embarrassed about nearly bowling the man over, but right now he just didn’t care one bit.

“Oh, Bitty,” Bob said, so kind and tender, wrapping his strong arms around Bitty and pulling him close, "oh, angel, what is it?"

_Angel._ Bitty looked up at him, heart beating so hard he was sure Bob could feel it. "You remember me?"

Bob's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Of course I do." He let out a startled laugh as his hands dropped to Bitty's hips, giving him a fond, steadying squeeze. "Of _course_ I do, sweetheart. Though I'm flattered you think I get picked up by that many gorgeous little virgins, eh?" 

And, oh, Bob could still make him giggle. Those big, warm hands drifted lower, cupping his ass through his shorts. 

"I'm glad you got to see me skate," Bitty said, dropping his eyes when he felt the blush rising. 

A hand caught his chin and tilted his face up. "So am I," Bob said, brushing away Bitty's tears with the rough pad of his thumb. "Do you want me to take you home to your dorm, or home with me?"

"You," Bitty breathed. The hand still on his ass squeezed and a sudden rush of lust made Bitty bold. He turned his head to chase Bob's thumb, going up on tiptoes to catch it and sucking like he wanted to suck something else of Bob's.

Bob's hand slipped under his shorts, sliding his underwear to one side to rub slowly, deliberately at Bitty's hole. "There's my sweet little slut," Bob murmured, kissing his temple. Bitty moaned happily around his thumb. "There he is."

With a last lick, Bitty reluctantly let Bob's thumb go so they could walk to the car. The hand up his shorts, though, stayed where it was, rubbing slow and steady, making Bitty shiver in pleasure and anticipation.


	4. Chapter 4

Bob nearly had a heart attack when he saw that familiar little blond take the ice. Chalice, host, and tabernacle, his Bitty was a freshman. A freshman _now_. He started the mental arithmatic and stopped almost immediately, guilty heat throbbing in his groin. Well, that explained why he never called.

Christ, Bitty was pretty on the ice, better than Bob had imagined. Of course he was, Bob thought, he'd had time to learn his craft. They ought to try him on Jack's line, Jack liked his wingers fast. _And blond,_ Bob's mind supplied wryly. He hadn't considered the possibility that Bitty could be seeing his son but, yes, it was awfully plausible, wasn't it? Alicia had always chirped him about it, whenever she and Kent would get mistaken for mother and son on outings. _You Zimmermanns certainly have a type._

Thinking of Kent made him imagine Jack flanked by the pair of them. Now, wouldn't that be a line? His Jack with quick little Bitty darting around to tidy up on the right and Kent, with his head for tactics and the puck on a string, racking up points playing his off-wing. That would be a challenging look for any opposing team. Put a pair of tough guys on defense to keep the flies off Parson - Kenny always had a knack for attracting trouble, Bob thought fondly, and though he was admirably game despite his size, he was too good to have wasting time in the sin bin. Yes, a shift like that might have something pretty special.

It was a good game. Good clean college hockey, not exactly the style Bob had grown up in, but a lot of fun to watch, especially with his son out there looking happy and full of fire. Cute little Bitty even scored, and Bob imagined catching up with him for a private little celly. _Be good,_ he admonished himself. For all he knew this boy could be seeing his son (and good for Jack, if he was).

He was resolutely, determinedly good even when they ran in to Bitty and his mother in the hall. Even with Bitty blushing and stammering and looking even more fuckable than the day they'd met, smelling like sweat and obviously hard under his shorts. Probably just youth and exertion, but it did look good on him, so sweet and tempting.

Jack just wanted to head home to his Haus and Bob didn't want to push. They could spend time tomorrow. Before persuing any alternate evening plans, Bob asked, "So, that Bitty, is he your chum?"

 

"No!" Jack sounded absolutely scandalized. "Papa, he's a frog, he made everyone _pie_ for his eighteenth birthday." 

"Okay, okay," said Bob, raising his hands appeasingly and suppressing a laugh. "I forgot, nobody feels more ancient than twenty three year olds."

Jack huffed. "Do you want to go to Annie's for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Please." Bob hugged him and kissed his cheeks. "I'm so proud of you, Jack. So's your mother. You know we're proud of you for more than what you do on the ice, we're proud of what kind of man you are most of all-" (" _Papa_.") "-but you are a special player, Jack, and I want you to know that. I see it every time you're out there." Bob knew he was being a sappy old dad and an embarrassing one at that but, well, with sixty coming up fast and all this new research about concussions, he'd take every chance he got. 

Once his boy was headed home, Bob debated what to do. Try to find little Bitty, see if he was interested? But the last thing he wanted to do was ruin Bitty's big night by cornering him into an uncomfortable conversation with a dirty old man who didn't know a one night stand when he fucked one. 

Bob was still trying to decide when he saw him, crying with his eyes so downcast he walked right into Bob's chest. _Oh Christ, and I was worried about ruining his night._ "Bitty," he said, wanting with every bone in his body to pull Bitty to him, kiss the tears off his face, carry him home and make love to him until dawn. He laid his hands on Bitty's shoulders instead. _Be good. For all you know, it's last time that has him crying._ "Are you alright, son?"

And suddenly he had an armful of sniffling winger, warm and vulnerable, and Bob couldn't do anything but cradle him close and take care of him. "Oh, Bitty. Oh, angel, what is it?"

"You remember me?" The question made his heart twist. Was _that_ why his poor little Bitty was sobbing his heart out? Well, then _fuck_ being good. While he was reassuring Bitty that he was a precious treat far from forgotton, he teased and touched just a little, getting his hands back on that pert little hockey butt that filled his hands even better than he remembered. He meant to get Bitty smiling and maybe, if he was very lucky, to get Bitty to come home with him. What he got was a darling little slut so starved for love he was ready to put out in the Faber parking lot in front of God and everyone.

"Easy," he soothed, rubbing between Bitty's cheeks and feeling those needy little hips cant back into the motion. Bob walked him back to the car. "Almost there, sweetheart." _Thank God for tinted windows._

 

Bob opened the passenger door for Bitty, reluctantly taking his hands off him for the moment. "Don't worry about being modest, angel," he said with a wink, tapping the inside of the window. "All privacy glass."

By the time he slid into the driver's seat and shut the door behind him, Bitty's shorts and underwear were on the floor and he was squeezing his pretty cock like he was afraid he might come without any help at all. 

"Come over here, darling."

Bitty didn't need to be told twice. He scrambled right over to straddle Bob's lap, letting out a cute little "Oh!" when he sank down and found him hard. It was flattering, how flustered just sitting on Bob's cock through all his clothes got Bitty. Drops of precome rolled down Bitty's cock like a little string of pearls.

"Oh, Lord, I'm going to make a mess of your clothes," Bitty said with a self deprecating little giggle.

Cupping that lovely ass in his hands, Bob pulled Bitty's hips firmly against his. "My hotel has laundry."

Bitty's little hands strayed between them, cupping his cock through his slacks. "May I sit on it, please?" he asked, his big, eager eyes and his cheerfully frank naivete making him seem as young as - well, as young as he really had been when Bob had taken his virginity. Bob's cock throbbed.

"Of course you can," he said magnanimously, stroking Bitty's hair and trying not to laugh at how delightedly grateful he looked. "You really are a cute little thing," he murmured as he watched Bitty stick a couple fingers in his mouth and suck. "Can't just get them wet, you have to tease me too, eh?"

Pulling his fingers free with a wet pop, Bitty said, "You want my mouth a little, while I'm getting ready? I've been practicing."

Bob groaned and pressed Bitty's shoulders, guiding him down to kneel between Bob's knees. He unbuckled his belt and opened his pants, pulling his cock out for Bitty's hungry eyes. "You treasure. Who have you been practicing on, sweetheart?"

"Well, I-" Bitty blushed. "Mostly just on, you know, things. My high school football team was already knocking me around, it's not like I could offer any of _them_ a blowjob," he said wryly. 

Poor kid. But he was at Samwell now, thank God, looking up at Bob like he hoped he hadn't ruined the mood, so Bob let himself think instead of dear little Bitty practicing his cocksucking skills on _things_. "What kind of things, sweetheart?"

He ducked his head to hide his face against the underside of Bob's cock, hot little cheek pressed against him and making Bob groan with need. He looked perversely innocent, a sweet little thing too shy to look at him but not too shy to nuzzle his cock for comfort. A flutter of eyelashes tickled Bob just below his foreskin as Bitty peeked up at him and said nervously, "My stick." Christ, that was an image, little Bitty giving head to a hockey stick because he couldn't find a man to practice on. His breath felt like a warm carress on Bob's balls. "I- I do other things with it too." Then, as if saying so made him too embarrassed to go on in conversation one moment longer, he knelt up to wrap those pretty lips around Bob's cock and suck. 

Groaning, Bob buried his hands in Bitty's hair and urged him down. The way he was sucking, Bob wasn't too worried about being too much for him. That stick had obviously been good practice. Bob bucked his hips up when Bitty swallowed, thrusting into that tight little throat, and though it made Bitty gag at first he got himself under control admirably. "Good, angel. So good."

Bitty slid his hand behind himself, arching his back a little so he could reach to get those fingers he'd been sucking where he needed them. Putting them up himself appeared to remind him of the practical purpose of getting Bob's cock in his mouth and he seemed to force himself not to swallow, letting Bob's cock choke him instead as he bobbed his head and drooled on it. The sloppy, inexpert feel of it turned Bob on more than he could have guessed, made Bitty seem even younger than he was, made him seem like the jailbait he'd been last time.

Reluctantly, Bob gripped Bitty's hair and pulled him back gently, cock throbbing as Bitty's tongue stretched out, trying for one more taste. Oh, his poor, sweet slut, Bob felt guilty denying him but it had to be done. Any more watching Bitty's apple cheeks hollow out around his cock as he slurped messily up and down would have finished Bob off, and at his age only God knew how long it'd take him to get it up a second time on any given night.

"Come up here, sweetheart," he coaxed, helping Bitty up to kneel straddling his lap, cock to cock. Bitty gazed down intently, flushed and biting his lip, with a heat that made Bob chuckle. "You're just perfect. You like the way we look together?" Bitty nodded raptly. The difference in size was striking, pressed together like this. "Such a cute little treat, every bit of you. Are you ready for me?" he asked, gripping his cock.

"Oh, yes, sir!" Bitty said eagerly, kneeling up and scooting forward on his knees until they were chest to chest. He looked at Bob, hopeful and unsure, and Bob suddently realized with a rush of fond amusement that his Bitty didn't quite know how to get _on_ his cock from here. 

Bob kissed the tip of his nose as he guided his cock to nudge against Bitty's barely wet little hole. "There, sweetheart. Now, don't hurt yourself with it," he cautioned.

But Bitty was already trying to press himself down, panting hard and balling up his little fists against Bob's chest. Bob helped him adjust the angle, held Bitty's cheeks open and his own cock in the right position, and finally Bitty's tight little hole gave in and let the head of Bob's cock push inside him. 

God, he was impossibly tight and hot inside. A little spit and a moment or two with his own slender fingers up himself, Bob knew that wasn't enough for a tiny young thing like Bitty to take a cock like his. He ran his hands over the taut, trembling muscles of Bitty's thighs, soothing. The soft, pink lips he'd been enjoying a moment ago were pressed together in a moue of pained concentration as Bitty tried to work his way down Bob's cock. 

"Easy, sweetheart. Try to relax," Bob said, but he couldn't quite find it in himself to do what he knew he should and hold those little hips still. Watching sweet Bitty struggling to please him, pushing the limits of what his little body could take, was more of a turn-on than Bob would ever have guessed. And besides, he thought, willing himself to consider something other than the delicious grip around the head of his cock, Samwell didn't have a game for three days, there were worse times for Bitty to experiment, to learn if this kind of painful penetration could be something he enjoyed.

"Mm." Bitty's eyes fluttered as he sank a little lower. His flagging cock gave a twitch that made Bob laugh in delighted lust.

"You sweet thing. Does that feel nice?" He reached out and ruffled Bitty's hair, smiling fondly as Bitty pressed his cheek against Bob's hand with an affirmative hum.

"I can feel- oh, I can feel everything." Bitty was panting as he reached one hand down under himself, making Bob moan as he ran those little fingers over Bob's cock, tracing a vein. "I can feel this inside me." Pain and effort were behind the shallow little puffs of Bitty's breathing, but not the blush on his cheeks or the bright want in his eyes. God, Bob wondered if he would be able to feel precome easing the slide inside him soon, as hot as Bitty had him.

Massaging Bitty's straining thighs and hips, Bob asked, "What do you need, angel? How can I help you?"

"Touch me," Bitty said in a desperate, strangled little moan. "Please, Mr. - Bob," he finished, as if remembering he was an adult now, if only just barely. What had Bitty been going to call him? Bob wondered as his hands drifted over Bitty's thighs, up his sides, rucking his shirt up. Mr. Bad Bob? He tucked the hem into Bitty's mouth for safekeeping and his darling slut moaned in surprised, delighted heat around the cloth between his teeth. Mr. Jack's Dad? Christ, this was his son's cute little teammate whose pink nipples he was circling with his thumbs, teasing, not quite touching. The tight hole milking his cockhead belonged to a college freshman so young and innocent _Jack_ was scandalized by the idea of dating him.

He took Bitty's nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. He still played enough pick-up games for his calluses to make Bitty moan helplessly, knees sliding apart on the seat. Bob squeezed the right nipple lightly, with a gentle pull that made Bitty's mouth fall open in shocked, needy pleasure. Bitty caught his shirt and hurridly stuffed the hem back in his mouth, flashing Bob a sheepish little grin.

"So cute. My dear, lovely slut," Bob said fondly, easing off Bitty's right nipple and repeating the squeeze and pull on his left. He kept going, alternating nipples with a slow, methodical tempo that Bitty fell into easily - hips rocking ever so slightly and hole squeezing and releasing to the rhythm of Bob's fingers, working his body slowly down Bob's cock. "The first time I saw you, I remember these eager little things trying to poke through your shirt. Were you very hot for me, sweetheart?"

Bitty gave a muffled noise of affirmation, nodding with his shirt in his mouth.

"Were you already thinking about giving me your virginity?" 

With a needy little moan, Bitty forced himself down another few centimeters, body gripping Bob's cock so tight it was almost painful. There were tears or pain and effort standing out in Bitty's eyes but his sweet little cock was bobbing against his abs, painting him with little smears of his own precome. Christ, that was some answer. 

"You didn't want to wait for a nice boy your own age?" Bitty shook his head emphatically - no, no, no - arching his chest into Bob's hands. "No, of course not, angel. You needed a man who knew what to do with a precious little slut like you, didn't you?" The way Bitty's hips were jerking and stuttering was stuffing him full of Bob's cock fast, and it was that wild, uncontrollable pleasure that had Bob going on, " _Tabernak_ , you were young. No wonder your hole was so tiny, eh?"

Before he had time to worry about going too far, Bitty's hips snapped down, filling him to the hilt with Bob's cock as he came with a moan that was practically a wail. His pretty cock made a mess of both their chests, twitching and spurting untouched. Bob slipped a hand down to stroke pulse after shivery pulse of come out until Bitty slumped forward in his lap, shivering against Bob's chest. Gently, with shaking hands, Bob reached up and coaxed Bitty's mouth open, letting the hem of his shirt fall away, then wrapped Bitty up in his embrace and stroked his hair. Buried balls deep in that tight, hot hole, Bob could feel Bitty's pulse pounding around his cock. 

"Oh, you lovely thing," Bob sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of Bitty's head, "can you feel how hard you've got me, angel?"

"Mm-hm." Bitty sounded pleased with himself, the sweet little tease. "Can I-" With a little hiss of pain he lifted himself gracefully up Bob's cock, lovely thighs flexing, making Bob moan as that tight hole milked him. Bitty stopped just high enough to lean forward and plant a chaste little peck on Bob's lips, blinking at him with exaggerated naievete. Oh, his Bitty was learning a thing or two, Bob thought, observing with fond amusement Bitty's barely contained delight at having found a new game. 

"Did you need a kiss?" Bob asked, only half able to suppress his grin. God, it was cute, Bitty playing even younger and more innocent than he already was. He slid his hands down to grip Bitty's ass and give a playful squeeze. Bitty bit his lip and nodded shyly, doe eyes sparkling. Running a hand up Bitty's spine to cup the back of his neck, Bob said, "Come here, angel. I'll show you how." 

Bitty squeaked against his lips in faux-surprise and let Bob "teach" him how to kiss. Meanwhile, those wicked little hips of his began to roll, riding Bob in earnest. God, he loved fucking wingers, the way Bitty could move that tight little body of his was heavenly. Bob gripped Bitty's strong thighs, enjoying the flex of his muscles as Bob urged him into longer strokes.

"Oh, you sweet, slutty angel. That's it, now all the way down," Bob coaxed, hissing along with Bitty at the tight squeeze when Bitty complied. "Are you hurting too much, sweetheart?"

"No! I like it," Bitty said, shaking his head emphatically as he bounced in Bob's lap. It must be hard for him, poor darling had already had a hockey game and an orgasm tonight, but he curled his little fingers in Bob's shirt and put his muscles to work. "I like how big you feel inside me."

Bob moaned. This boy was a menace. "That's what you need, angel? A nice, big cock inside you?"

An adorably confident nod. "Mm-hm!" His big, brown eyes met Bob's with a naughty, teasing gleam even as he blushed bright. "I practiced that too. With my stick, I mean."

Cursing up a blue streak, he gripped Bitty's hips and pulled him down hard, thrusting up to bury himself balls deep. "You wonderful slut," Bob managed to moan, hips pumping as if he was a man possessed. Each thrust drove a helpless little cry out of Bitty, his soft cock bouncing prettily between them. Bob could feel the muscles of his hips and ass flex like he was trying to help fuck himself on Bob's cock but, sexy as that was, with a tiny little thing like Bitty, Bob didn't need help. He brought himself off deep in that hot hole fucking Bitty the way he would a toy, holding Bitty by the hips and pulling him up and down to compliment his own thrusts. Bitty moaned happily when Bob filled him up with come, wiggling on Bob's lap and tilting his head up to ask for another kiss. Bob obliged him with pleasure.

"You still want to come home with me, sweetheart?"

"Yes, please," said Bitty primly, tucking himself against Bob's chest to cuddle with his cock still inside him. "I wish I didn't have to move."

For one crazy moment, Bob considered telling him he didn't have to, that Bob would drive to the hotel getting soft inside him and, hell, hide him under a coat and carry him, he hadn't thought that far ahead. Instead, he kissed Bitty's hair softly. "I know, darling, so do I." He helped Bitty lift himself off his lap and clamber over to the other seat. He gave Bitty an affectionate pat on the ass as he went. His poor darling was moving a little gingerly, either from the game or from being fucked raw in the front seat of a rental car with nothing but spit to ease the way. 

Bob watched avidly as Bitty wiggled into his briefs and shorts, then finally turned his attention to his own dischevled clothes. He tucked his cock away and closed his pants. Being old enough to still carry a handkerchief paid off sometimes, and tonight was one of the. Bob was able to mop most of Bitty's spunk off his shirt front. He leaned over to do the same for Bitty, knowing he could have just passed the handkerchief over but liking to play at taking care of his pretty little lover.

"There, angel," he said, pocketing the soiled handkercheif. "I think we can at least pass muster on the way up to my room like this, eh?"

"Are you sure it'll be alright?" Bitty asked. "I don't-" He looked down at his feet, worrying his lip. "I don't want to cause any trouble for you. That's the last thing I want."

Bob looked at him, wishing he could tell Bitty he'd never need to worry. He took Bitty's hand in his. "We should be safe enough tonight, sweetheart." He gave Bitty a rakish grin and squeezed his hand. "And sneaking around with pretty wingers is a specialty of mine."

 

The drive to the hotel was mercifully quick. Even near campus there wasn't much car traffic, and the rest of the town was asleep. Lucky for him he'd chosen an anonymous hotel suite instead of a quaint little bed and breakfast, or sneaking Bitty in and out would be much more of an adventure than taking a back door. It was a shame, though, he thought, as they rode the elevator up. Bitty seemed like the kind of boy who would love that kind of place. Bob could just picture him cooing over quilts and canned goods, or sprawled invitingly on an antique spool bed. Maybe sometime Bob could find a quaint little bed and breakfast with quaint little NDAs and whisk him away for an offseason weekend.

The second the door to his suite closed behind them, Bob grabbed Bitty's pert little hockey butt and pulled him in to kiss. Bending down was a bother, even with little Bitty on tiptoes, so Bob just picked him up, delighting at Bitty's little squeak of surprise and the easy way he wrapped his legs around Bob's waist. 

"Now I've got you to myself all night," Bob growled, turning to press Bitty up against the wall. "What should I do with you, angel?"

Giggling, Bitty wriggled happily against him. "Oh my goodness, well, you could take my clothes off."

Bob couldn't resist showing off. The loose tank top Bitty was in was easy to strip off him one handed without even putting him down, much to Bitty's apparent delight. Encouraged, Bob lifted Bitty higher and draped him over his shoulder. 

"Oh my Lord, you incorrigible man, I am not a sack of flour!" 

Little fists playfully thumping Bob's back, Bitty kicked his feet and laughed while Bob first unbuttoned his shorts and then slid them down, along with his sticky briefs. He slid his hands back up Bitty's strong, lovely thighs and gave that bubble butt a squeeze. 

"Did all my come drip out, sweetheart?" he asked, trailing a finger between Bitty's cheeks and feeling the hot, swollen hole twitch at his touch like Bitty's body was still trying to invite him inside.

"I think so, Mr. Bad Bob," Bitty sighed mournfully, curling against him as if for comfort. "I feel real empty down there."

"My poor, darling slut," Bob said. He swung Bitty down into a bridal carry, chuckling over Bitty's surprised squeak and the way he clung to Bob's shirt. "Let me look at that pretty hole, see if you can take any more tonight."

Bitty responded to his teasing with an adorably indignant, "I can!" as he was carried into the bathroom. There was a sizable hot tub in the corner and, when Bob laid him on the faux-stone ledge around it, Bitty lifted his legs and grabbed the backs of his knees, folding himself up and presenting his pretty red hole for inspection. 

Hands cupping that lovely hockey butt, Bob stroked a thumb over it, watching Bitty shiver, pretty young cock twitching. "Are you sure I wasn't too rough, darling? Look how puffy it is, your poor little hole."

Bitty moaned wantonly, pulling his knees tighter to his chest and trying to press his hips higher. Bob was still stroking, coaxing Bitty's cock hard and his hole soft and relaxed. "Oh, Lord. Oh. You weren't too rough, Mr. Bad Bob, you can do some more to me." 

His pretty pink nipples were so very stiff. Bob enjoyed a nice long look, letting Bitty see him staring. When his eyes drifted back up, Bitty's cheeks were as pink as his nipples and he looked eager and more than a little proud. Oh, his Bitty liked Bob's eyes on him, liked having a lover turned on by noticing that his slutty little tits wanted attention.

"You must be cold, eh?" Bob asked, giving them a playful pinch that made Bitty gasp. "Warm up in the bath, sweetheart," Bob said, bending over Bitty to kiss one, then the other. "I'll get something better than spit to stretch you with." He gave Bitty's puffy hole a fond pat and stood.

Out in the suite's bedroom, he undressed, packed his clothes, and unpacked the personal lubricant he hadn't been expecting to need. Thank God old roadie habits died hard. On his way back to the bedroom, he could hear little Bitty humming some vaguely familiar pop song. Cute little thing. Bob found him all snuggled up in the bath, hugging his knees and, judging by the bubbles he was wreathed in and his happy little sighs, sitting on one of the water jets.

"Starting without me, eh?" Bob laughed. "Open your legs, angel." With a coqettish smile, Bitty did as he asked. As brazen as Bitty was, the turbulent water gave it a peep show effect, letting Bob catch teasing glimpses of bubbles climbing his pretty cock, of his tight little sack being pushed forward by the same water jet Bitty was trying to fuck himself with. 

Bob wasn't the only one enjoying an eyeful, he was flattered to see. Bitty's eager gaze roamed over his body with charmingly open lust. His little darling shared a locker room with all those good looking college boys, but he seemed utterly enthralled nonetheless.

When Bob slid into the hot tub in front of him, settling between his legs, Bitty's hands came up to rest on his chest, little fingers curling in the still mostly black hair he found there. 

"Lord, you're so handsome. I keep thinking I oughta pinch myself, I been dreaming of you so long."

"You're not the only one, you lovely little treasure. I told myself, don't be so greedy, old man, a pretty young thing like him has boyfriends queueing up around the block." Bob chucked Bitty under the chin and made him flush with pleasure.

"Can we make love in the tub?" Bitty asked hopefully.

Bob kissed him, coaxing those pretty pink lips open and exploring. "Of course we can, angel. Everywhere." He kissed him again, drinking in Bitty's pleased sighs and moans as he ran his hands over that sweet little body. "Oh you dear thing, I want to have you everywhere."

While Bitty melted into his embrace, Bob lubed up his fingers and set the tube aside on the edge of the tub. He lost some to water, as he knew he would, but he still had his fingers slippery enough to slide easily into Bitty. First one, then out, then the next, then out, dipping his fingers in one at a time. He liked the way it felt, Bitty's body trying to cling to him as he pulled out, and Bitty didn't seem to mind the teasing. 

"Mmm. That feels nice," Bitty said with a little sigh against the crook of his neck. He shifted closer under the warm water, rubbing his hard cock against Bob's soft one, coaxing him towards a second wind. "I love the way you touch me."

Gently, Bob pressed two fingers in, just up to the first knuckle. "I'm not hurting you?" Bitty shook his head against Bob's shoulder and Bob let his fingers sink in deeper. "You took it so well in the car. My strong little darling." He kissed Bitty's temple. "Now I get to pamper you." 

Laying in a hot bath with his little body draped languidly over Bob, Bitty relaxed easily for him, even when Bob penetrated him with a third, thick finger. His hot little hole clung to Bob like he needed him inside, softening its grip as Bob pumped lazily in and out. "My fingers aren't going anywhere, you sweet, slutty little angel," Bob assued him. "I know how you need to be filled up." He pressed as deep as his three fingers could reach and stayed there, feeling Bitty's heartbeat around him. It slowed as he Bitty's grip on his fingers relaxed into soft heat. Bob felt eyelashes flutter against his shoulder.

"Are you falling asleep, sweetheart?" Bob asked, chuckling. Bitty made a noncommital noise and sighed contentedly as Bob began to rock his fingers inside him. "Oh, you charming slut. Sometimes you're my little firecracker, now you're a pretty little doll for me. And you're just made to be played with, aren't you, you lovely thing?"

"Mm-hm, any way you - oh!" Bitty's face pressed against the crook of Bob's neck, muffling a moan, as Bob worked his pinky inside. It was a tight fit and he knew he really shouldn't, no matter how encouragingly Bitty nuzzled. He'd already roughed up that poor little hole enough for tonight. But, tight as it was, the slide of his hand inside Bitty was still nice and slippery and the sounds Bitty was making were of wanton delight.

"Oh, it feels like you could pick me up like this," Bitty whimpered, sitting back on Bob's hand. "Just pick me right up."

Bob groaned. It wasn't impossible that he could, with a tiny thing like Bitty, especially one strong enough to hold himself up and steady. He imagined his little Bitty perched helplessly on Bob's hand, his one point of support the hand penetrating him. Under water like this, he _knew_ he could. 

"Hug your knees to your chest, darling," Bob said, planting kiss on Bitty's lips. Sweet and trusting as he was, Bitty went along without question, looking at Bob with curiosity.

"Oh!" Curiosity turned to shocked, aroused laughter as Bob lifted Bitty like he was doing a bicep curl at the gym. He felt Bitty slip down a little more snugly and adjusted his grip, thumb pressing Bitty's taint. "Oh- oh-" Bitty held his knees up determinedly, looking down in wonder. "Oh, Mr. Bad Bob. Oh, Lord, you're so stong and-" He broke off in a pretty gasp as Bob wiggled his fingers.

"You're such a little thing," Bob said in fond wonder, diddling Bitty's prostate with his fingers and thumb both. "Oh, sweetheart, you perfect slut, just sitting in the palm of my hand."

Panting, Bitty said, "I don't think I can balance much longer. Oh, God, Mr. Bad Bob, you're going to make me come just wiggling your fingers. I'll make a _mess_ ," he half laughed, half wailed.

With a wink and a deep breath, Bob leaned in, ducking his head under water to wrap his mouth around Bitty's cock at the same time as he crooked his fingers. He could hear Bitty wailing from underwater as he shot like the sweet young teenager he was. Bob barely even got a chance to lick that pretty cock of his first. To safe his sweetheart from making a mess in the hot tub, he swallowed and licked until Bitty was squirming in protest.

Once Bob left his poor little cock alone and sat up, Bitty heaved a blissfully contented sigh and went as limp as a rag doll as Bob gathered him close, legs splaying artlessly as he slumped against Bob's broad chest with most of Bob's hand still stuffed up his hotly pulsing little hole.

Kissing his way along Bob's jaw until he found his lips, Bitty snuck a hand down between them and wrapped his little fingers most of the way around his cock. They didn't _go_ all the way around. 

"Oh my, Mr. Bad Bob, what are we going to do about _this_?" Bitty asked, all wide eyed innocence. He looked down at Bob's cock, then up through his lashes. "It's awfully big and hard."

Grinning, Bob said, "And you wouldn't know anything about what to do with a big, hard cock, eh?" 

Bitty brought a hand to his mouth to cover his own laugh and shook his head emphatically. "Why, what kind of boy do you think I am, Mr. Bad Bob?"

Bob laughed and kissed him. He pulled his hand out of Bitty in a smooth, steady motion that left Bitty's little hole gaping, then slipped a finger from each hand in to hold him open for that water jet he'd been using to play with himself before.

Squirming and moaning, Bitty grasped Bob's cock with both hands to jack him off.

"Oh, you sweet little minx, you do know how to flatter a man," Bob laughed between kisses. He held Bitty in place, letting the water tease him inside while he stroked Bob's cock. God it felt good, those clever little hands working him over in a hot bath. He could finish just like this, or.... Bob glanced down between them. Bitty's pretty little cock was already making a valiant effort to rejoin the party. "Look at you, you lovely young slut. Would you like to learn something new to do with that?"

" _Please._ "

Bob kissed the top of Bitty's head and climbed out of the tub. He grabbed a huge, fluffy towel and held it out to wrap around Bitty solicitously the second he was on solid ground. 

Giggling, Bitty snuggled against his chest and wrapped the towel around both of them instead. His half hard cock was a hot press against Bob's thigh. "You sweet man."

"I can't help but want to be sweet with you, you precious thing." They kissed and cuddled as they toweled off, and by the time they were passably dry Bitty was dripping for him. "Eager little sweetheart," Bob murmured, sweeping Bitty up in his arms. The ease of it sent a pang of heat straight to his cock.

Bitty glowed like a new bride as he let himself be carried to the bed. Bob laid him down reverently and climbed on top of him. Christ, Bitty seemed tiny like this, boxed in under him.

"You beautiful little treasure." Bob bent down for a kiss. "Oh, you precious darling." He took both their cocks carefully in hand, lining the tips up together. He could feel Bitty's eager, curious gaze as he gently slid his foreskin to cover the head of Bitty's cock. 

"Oh," Bitty said breathlessly. Bob looked down to see him blushing and staring at their joined cocks. 

"See, angel?" Bob flexed his hips just a little, sliding the wet heads of their cocks together to let Bitty see how it felt. 

Bitty moaned, head pressing back against the pillows as he rocked his hips up. "Oh, yes."

Bob found that he could dock almost all of Bitty's sweet, hot little cock. He wrapped a hand easily around both of them together and jerked them with quick, expert strokes. Bitty gripped his biceps and writhed sweetly under him. 

"Oh, you gorgeous, wanton angel. You feel so hot and wet, sliding against me. Can you feel it?"

"Yes," panted Bitty. His little hips strained up as Bob pumped them faster. "Oh, Lord, Mr. Bad Bob, I never felt-!" He arched off the bed, mouth open in an ecstatic gasp, a flush high on his cheeks. Bob felt the hot rush of slippery come on his sensitive cockhead. That sensation on top of watching his gorgeous little Bitty come pushed him over the edge. He lowered himself down to kiss Bitty hard while he coated his cock with come.

He lay on top of Bitty while they caught their breath together, reveling in how tiny Bitty felt underneath him. Finally, he pressed a kiss to Bitty's forehead. "I'll get us a wascloth, angel. You relax."

"Thank you, Mr. Bad Bob," Bitty said, hugging him. God, he was cute.

After he'd cleaned himself up, Bob headed back to bed, warm washcloth in hand. Bitty was laying there spread out like a buffet, come shining on his soft cock and dripping down his balls. Bob stroked him clean very gently, enjoying the way he felt, soft and sated in Bob's hand.

"Under the covers now, sweetheart," Bob said. Once Bitty was situated, he climbed into bed beside him and pulled him close with an arm around his shoulders. Bitty snuggled up to lay half-way on top of him, head pillowed on Bob's chest. "You were wonderful," Bob told him, stroking his hair.

"So were you," Bitty said, tracing his fingers idly over the muscles of Bob's chest. "I've been dreaming about this ever since last time, wishing you'd find me someday."

"So have I." Bob kissed the top of his head. "If I'd known you were so young-"

In an instant, his little body was rigid in Bob's arms. "You wouldn't have made love to me." Bitty's voice was a taut, colorless monotone. "I understand that, sir. I'm sorry I mis-"

Bob pulled Bitty up and kissed him, not wanting to boss him but not wanting to hear him apologize for being jailbait either, Christ. "Bitty," he said gently, taking Bitty's face in his hands, "if I'd known you were so young, I would have taken you more seriously as a hockey prospect."

"Oh." Bitty's cheeks warmed under his hands.

"You on scholarship?"

Bitty nodded. 

"Good. You're a good little player, sweetheart. Think you want to go pro?"

Biting his lip, Bitty's eyes squeezed closed. "I don't even belong on the Samwell team, sir."

It broke his heart. Where was the little spark he'd seen dancing across the ice? "Who's saying this to you?"

Big brown eyes looked at him so helplessly Bob thought he had a pretty good guess. One or both of his coaches, then, who clearly didn't mean it enough to keep him off the ice. Worry gripped his heart - because, in that case, what was the bastard saying to his son?

"Everyone knows." The words tumbled out of those pretty lips, red and swollen from kisses, cocksucking, and now nervous biting. "This game was a fluke, sir, I- it was a lucky shot. I can't even take a check, I get too scared and I give up opportunities."

Bob hummed thoughtfully, stroking Bitty's hair. "I wondered about the dodging. But it's easier to teach someone to take a hit than it is to teach that beautiful spin-o-rama of yours, sweetheart, believe me. We can work on it."

"We can?" Bitty sounded like he was afraid he'd be chastized just for asking, even after Bob had said it himself. Bob had seen players cowed like that, bullied by a bad coach or a bad captain into a timidity that was a bigger liability than whatever flaw they were picking at. 

"Angel," Bob said firmly, "I've forgotten more about hockey than both your coaches put together ever learned. You believe me?"

As full of trust as the first time he'd let Bob put him on his knees in the shower, Bitty nodded for him.

"When I watched that game, sweetheart, I saw a good little player, lightning fast, with soft hands and good eyes, and the potential to go as far as he wants to work for." Bob kissed Bitty on the forehead. "You just think about it, angel, and in the meantime we'll play together. See if we can't help you with checking."

"I'd like that," Bitty said shyly. "Thank you."

Bob kissed him. "Now sleep, angel. I'll have to run out on you early, breakfast with Jack. Anything you want from room service?"

Bitty shook his head. "Thank you, Mr. Bad Bob, you're sweet to offer. But I'm having brunch with my mama too."

The reminder that he was screwing his son's little teammate on Parents' Weekend sent a twinge of heat through him. "Alright, angel." He planted a goodnight kiss on Bitty. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mr. Bad Bob," Bitty said, laying his head on Bob's chest with a contented sigh. With such a warm, agreeable little bedmate, it was easy to drift off.


End file.
